Complex
by ajremix
Summary: Before they became the Tallests they had to grow. Chapter 5: Even Footing. The invasion is at a stand still. Trading a life for a life.
1. Head Hitting

So I've taken a bit of a hiatus doing multi-part fics. This one has been on my mind for a good long while and not only did I find myself on another Invader Zim kick, but I also found myself being somewhat bored so I decided to pick this up and run with it. It is a story about the Tallests, before they were the Tallests. Hell, before they were even friends. Just a speculative look at how things could've been.

There's not going to be any slashing in this story, sorry to disappoint you right off the bat. Practically all information given about Irk and the Irken way of life is all pure speculation. Um, I think that's all I have to say for now. Drop me a line and tell me how I'm doing, huh? Like I said, it's been a while so I may be a bit rusty.

* * *

Complex  
1. Head Hitting  
Virgo 

1. An entity made up of three or more interrelated components.  
2. A group of individual structures known or believed to be anatomically,  
embryologically, or physiologically related.  
3. A group of related, often repressed memories, thoughts, and impulses that  
compel characteristic or habitual patterns of feelings, thought, and behavior.

In one of the outlying northern spirals of the galaxy lay a fairly small binary system known as the Benti System. The system and the planet Benti-5- more commonly known as Devastis –was famous for housing the Irken Invader Academy. Devastis, a planet covered entirely with machinery and deep pockets of steaming liquid used as the planet's prime source of power, sat at the edge of the system and was the main training facility of the Academy. The other four planets sitting between it and its two suns were used for further training.

Benti-1 was a desert planet where the potential Invaders spent a week attempting to survive. The second planet was covered in mountain ranges and sharp crevices and there a month was spent tracking and hiding as classmates were pitted against each other. Benti-3 was lush with jungle and time there was spent in navigating through the thick terrain. The fourth planet revolved so close to Devastis that it could almost be considered a moon and was the only one off limits to students. Because there were as many as eight Invader courses going on at a time (each course held an entire vat- anywhere between five hundred to eight hundred Irken), the actual Instructors and other personnel lived on the fourth planet which was once jokingly called the Condo and has been called that ever since.

Despite the vast number of population that dotted each planet, rumor and gossip still spread quickly around the system. Some, depending on how outrageous, would reach most of the actual Armada before the Irken in question made it to the fleet.

One such rumor was of an Irken still in the process of completing the Academy. Rumored called his intellect and cunning as the greatest seen in hundreds of years, he was said to be as ruthless as the 23rd Almighty Tallest who had single handedly brought almost an entire quadrant under Irken control. He was called Red and his ability was proven just by his sheer size.

Irkens were manufactured, processed in vats on the moons of their home planet. The packs on their backs translated brainpower, skill and strength into size and Red towered over his fellow classmates by more than a head all ready. And he was only 30 standard years old.

Red didn't mind the rumors, felt no need to prove himself worthy of the praise. He went through his courses with a certain satisfaction as the crowd would part around him. He had top marks and his prospects were boundless and he still only completed half of the training. He had heard that his instructors were debating to accelerate him to a higher class- an unheard of thought in the academy.

It was one of the those debates that he was listening in on now, resting safely in the bunks (he had jury-rigged a listening device out of some scraps he hoarded together). The academy's chairman, Ley, was apparently on the far side of the room, his raspy voice barely audible through the device.

"Red certainly is talented, I agree-"

"He's far ahead of the others in his class. They're just holding him back."

Red nodded to himself. He liked his instructor, a former Invader herself, known as Dera. She'd challenge him, giving him harder material and tasks on the down-low. She always pushed to have him accelerated and it was beginning to sound like the resistance was giving in.

"You need to let him reach his full potential. Having him sit back while the rest of his class struggle is only going to hurt him. He could be one of the greatest Invader we've ever had!"

"If we accelerate Red," a new voice said and Red scowled- it was one of the secondary chairmen- Tenai, the one that most adamantly rejected the idea of moving him up, "then we'd have to accelerate Purple as well, you understand."

Red blinked in the silent dark. Purple? Who in the stars was that? Hunching over his receiver, Red tried to will them to elucidate.

"Purple." The name seemed to leave an unpleasant taste in Instructor Dera's mouth.

Chairman Ley seemed vaguely amused at her tone. "His instructor is also asking to have him moved up. You don't seem pleased."

"I don't know the student personally but…"

"It's not often that Devastis is able to host two such promising Invaders, is it?"

"No, sir."

"It certainly wouldn't be fair to bend rules for one and not the other, would it?"

"Not as such, no, sir."

"But you don't seem too happy, Instructor Dera."

"I've just heard some… things about Purple, sir."

"His stubbornness, perhaps? The way he doesn't get along with his classmates or the fact that he only cares about himself? Those are traits that we're trying to encourage. Not outright, of course, but Invaders don't have room to be sentimental or merciful."

"No, sir."

"Asides from that, Red isn't well known for playing nice with others, either."

"No, sir."

"So I'm assuming this is just your being biased?"

Red could hear a foot scuffling on the floor. Instructor Dera tended to be fidgety when uncomfortable. "I suppose I am a bit, sir. I've been training him for the past quarter century. I tend to be a bit attached to good students after a time."

Secondary Chairman Tenai spoke again. "If we should chose to accelerate the two, they should be placed in the same class. They could provide challenge for each other. It would certainly cause a stir in the gambling pool."

Red narrowed his eyes as Chairman Ley chuckled. "Could you imagine how high the stakes would go on who came out on top?" He said. "They might wind up bankrupting the empire!"

Dera's voice held thinly veiled accusation. "Are you proposing to move them up just for a bet?"

The chairman hummed thoughtfully. "It would be entertaining, yes. Besides, I'm sure the Almighty Tallest Flitch would consider the top graduate to be his successor. With such a prestigious reward, surely your feel your student is more then capable, are you not, Instructor?"

Red heard Instructor Dera move herself to full height- almost his height –and say, "He's far more than capable, Chairman Ley."

* * *

It took another week before Red's acceleration was officially set and the day after he was moved in with a class five years ahead of his. Some of his new classmates actually came close to his own size. 

They glared at him as he entered, some polishing their armor, others taking care of tears in their uniforms from one of the many battle simulations they went through. The instructor, a wiry thing called Tet, pointed him to a bunk in the back and said he would start training with the rest of the class in the following day. One of the secondary instructors came out at that point, hustling the class into full uniform and out of the squad bay with little time and loud decibels.

Red stayed behind, putting his things away and setting his bunk up.

The door opened again and Red stood up as another Irken student was directed toward him. His antennae twitched in surprise and then angrily when he realized this guy was actually TALLER then him (less then an inch, but taller nonetheless)!

Without a word, he set his stuff up quickly- ignoring Red's glare –and then laid out on Red's bunk and prepared to catch a nap.

Bristling, Red leaned over him. "That bunk is mine."

"Good for you."

"That means," he growled, "get. Out."

One eye opened and glared back, unimpressed. "Make me."

Purple eyes. Red frowned. Irken's eye color changed as their personalities grew and colors would coincide with their most prominent trait. Purple indicated stubbornness. His eyes were a very dark purple. Red could use all his guile and intellect he wanted, but someone that stubborn wouldn't move unless they felt like it. He probably wouldn't give it up even with a fight.

Snarling to himself, Red set up the higher bunk. He wasn't giving up, of course, he was going to finish this battle on his own time.

* * *

When the rest of the class came back from their impromptu run through the obstacle course, Instructor Tet introduced the two new additions- Red and Purple –and set them to study their knowledge until they formed up for the evening meal. 

Red, leaning against the footlockers, cast a sideways look at his bunkmate. So this was Purple, huh? He didn't speak much; in fact, he didn't do much asides from glare at everyone else and move with an incredible air of conceit about him.

He hated Purple. Viscously. Screw the betting pool, screw being the Tallest's successor (not really, that's a really nice incentive), if he let someone with Purple's bad attitude outscore him, Red would shot himself in the head.

Grinding his teeth together, Red focused his attention on his monitor- despite the fact that he'd read through it enough to practically memorize the sentences. Not only were Invaders supposed to be knowledgeable about some of the great battles and invasions in Irken history, they were to be well versed in the creation of their race.

Their actually origin was unknown though the students read up on the two most popular sides of the debate:

One side speculated that the Irkens were originally created and born through procreation- as nearly all biological beings were. However (for reasons also highly debated on), they began the process of cloning and then genetically engineering their offspring. From there, as their technology grew, entire nurseries sprung up. Irken's didn't separate times by generations but by vats- each one vat separated by one year.

The other side said that an entirely different race engineered the Irkens to be their fighting force. But, eventually, their intelligence and bloodlust lead to their creators' destruction and paved the way to conquering the entire galaxy. This particular theory appealed to their love of battle and also explained how they had come to call the tiny, lifeless lump of rock known as Irk to be their home planet.

It was a small, unassuming planet around two equally unassuming systems in the Gamma Quadrant. Despite the two suns the planet revolved around (it did an odd figure eight around the two), Irk was so far away from the suns that it was almost always at freezing temperatures. Asides from that, the planet itself was so small that it held little gravity and even less atmosphere. But the Irken Empire called it home and few other alien races had ever seen the tiny planet for themselves.

Red thumbed through the pages, not really looking at what he was reading. He was hoping the curriculum this far into training was actually worthwhile. He jumped back a bit, nimble fingers against the handheld screen. He finally realized he was feeling on edge because someone was looking at him. He lifted his head to find Purple giving him that condescending look again.

"What?" He asked, defensive.

"Your eyes."

"What about them?"

"They got an orange tint to them." Conversation apparently beneath him, Purple turned back to his own studies. "It's weird."

Most Irks had red eyes, to coincide with their vicious, greedy nature. Orange- a rare trait –meant that they were more cunning then the rest of their brethren. Red snorted in response. He thought out all angles and would get his results anyway possible. He didn't think it made him any craftier, it was just natural.

Never the less, he didn't even think to wonder why Purple would look at him long enough to notice.

* * *

Red flopped onto the top bunk, too exhausted to battle for the bottom one tonight (the two fought over it constantly, using guile, cunning, and occasionally force for it). Below him, Purple was already snoring away. Almost a year had passed since they moved into a higher class and they left the rest of their classmates straggling behind them long ago- some times, like today, literally. 

This particular obstacle course was over a mile long and when Red had beaten Purple's time by two seconds, the latter went through it again and shaved five seconds off of that. Which, of course, lead Red to try again and the two kept going through it over and over again until they: (1) broke the time record for that course, and (2) couldn't maintain their time and started cramping up.

Their competitiveness not only drove each other but some of the other students as well, their class boasting some of the tallest on the planet. The two themselves were breaking records left and right. Though Red scored constantly higher on the knowledge exams, Purple proved to be the stronger and quicker of the two. Whenever they spared in training, Red found himself on his ass far too many times for his liking.

But, calculating their scores in his head, it was impossible to figure out which one of them was in the lead. Red tapped a finger quietly on his bedding, trying to think of a way to secure his spot at the top. Try as he might, he couldn't think of ANY thing!

Frustrated, Red scooted to the edge of the bunk and peered down at his adversary, sprawled haphazardly below him. It was Purple's strength that was the main problem. Though his exam scores were only a point or two behind Red's, it was his physical prowess that made him the threat. If Purple got injured, there'd be no one to stand in-

He jerked that line of thought to a grinding halt.

Injury? Was he seriously thinking of sabotaging a fellow Irken? About HURTING a fellow Irken? If he were caught, he could be thrown out of the academy, maybe even tried for it. But Chairman Ley said that there were certain traits they were subtly trying to encourage. They might think it as another reason to have him be Tallest Flitch's successor. But could he do it? Could he do it and get AWAY with it?

So deep in his thoughts was he that Red wound up getting smacked in the face with a pillow.

"Knock it off." Purple growled. "I can't sleep with you being nosy like that."

Red grabbed the pillow and sneered. "Just making sure you didn't swallow your own tongue."

"Yeah. I'm sure you care. Gimme my pillow back."

For that, he decided to be a dick and threw the pillow across the squad bay before he lay back down. "Fetch."

"Bastard." Purple gave a weak punch to the area under Red's head but didn't get up himself. Too worn out to argue, the two snarled at each other a second longer before collapsing into sleep.


	2. What a Feeling

I always have a soft spot for the less touched upon characters, especially those with a very good relationship between them. And, despite the amount of slash/yaoi/whatever I enjoy, Red and Purple has always and will always come off as two best friends with a rich history between them. And what's a great friendship without some major wrinkles between them? XDD

* * *

Complex  
2. What a Feeling  
Virgo

1. An entity made up of three or more interrelated components.  
2. A group of individual structures known or believed to be anatomically,  
embryologically, or physiologically related.  
3. A group of related, often repressed memories, thoughts, and impulses that  
compel characteristic or habitual patterns of feelings, thought, and behavior. 

Emotions were not things Irken bioengineers spent a lot of time on. In fact, passed the fidelity toward their race and aggression to everything else, Irkens weren't given much else in the terms of emotions. That meant, however, that these things tended to develop on their own and had tendency of being occasionally, well, not good.

Conceit was good example. Because of their ability to continually crush anyone they came across, Irkens as a whole were rather boastful and self absorbed. Boredom was another dangerous one because when they weren't attacking anyone they really didn't have anything else to do. And because the before mentioned programmed aggressive tendency, the Irken race found that a good (relatively speaking) way to relieve boredom was to entertain themselves- most of the time it was by abusing someone else.

Other emotions also cropped up through experience and Purple was beginning to experience a new emotion that he neither had a name for or liked feeling. And it always came in regards to that… Red guy.

When Purple was a smeet, he realized that he was processing things faster then the others around him. His height shot up dramatically and people deferred to him. To Purple that only meant one thing: he was a natural leader. And when he saw the Almighty Tallest Flitch on a view screen for the first time welcoming him and his vat-mates into the world, he knew that wanted to be THE leader. He was going to become the Tallest.

And it was going better than he planned already. Moved to a class 10 years ahead (most vats on Irk were used to produce technicians, infantry, pilots and other drones, invader vats were complete once every five years) it seemed not only was he going to be the youngest Irk to graduate from the elite Invader Academy, but also graduate the top of his class.

"Ow! Sunnuva-"

That was the plan anyway. Except this RED guy kept getting in the way!

Purple growled, rubbing his jaw. The legs on his pak straightened, the back two kicking him forward and the front ones jabbing out, attempting to either pin Red down or skewer him. Pivoting on a spindle, Red's spidery legs whipped out. Purple barely dodged them with an intricate dance of ducking and jumping.

Slamming his weight on four points on the ground, Purpled lunged up, seeing an opening in Red's defense. And didn't see the fist that hooked around and slammed him against a bulkhead. Surprised by the attack, Purple flailed and hit the wall badly.

Something broke.

The rest of the class gasped loudly as Purple waggled what was left of his forward left leg. Red towered above him, gloating, and Purple glared messy death at him.

How DARE he! Not only did he beat him (never, in Purple entire time in the academy, was he ever beaten in a spider battle), but BROKE a leg as well! That bastard.

"You're gonna pay for that." Purple said flatly. Right before he launched himself at Red.

Not expecting an attack from a downed enemy, Red caught his adversary with his gut and both tumbled to the floor. They rolled, punching and cursing, spider legs scrabbling as they tussled.

"Not again." Their instructor moaned before motioning the monitors to help him. After successfully untangling the gangly metal legs and discerning whose body parts were whose, the monitors pulled the two apart as they still cursed and flung insults at each other.

Instructor Tet raised his eyes to the ceiling (Irkens didn't believe in benevolent gods because their race got away with so much, they didn't believe in vengeful gods for much the same reason). "If anyone's listening, you suck."

* * *

Rubbing his slender hands over his face, Instructor Tet sighed. "This is the fourth time this month I've had to separate you two from some fight or other." He gave the two bruised students a pleading look they couldn't meet. "Can't you not take everything so damn PERSONALLY? I'd hate to have to take this much higher, the both of you have so much potential- I don't want to see your records ruined because of something like this."

Not knowing what to say, Red and Purple sat silently.

"Honestly, why do you keep doing this? Do you hate each other? Is that it?"

"I don't hate him." Purple blurted out before his teeth could clamp shut. The other two looked at him in amazement. "Er, I mean." He traced little abstract lines on the seat. "That is, I don't hate HIM. I just… hate losing. Especially to him."

One of Instructor Tet's eyes narrowed. "So… You're just frustrated that he's just as good as you, then?"

Purple snorted. "He's just in the way right now. It won't stay that way, though. I won't let this guy ruin my chances to become the next Tallest."

"HAH!" Red barked. "YOU? YOU become Tallest? Don't insult me!" Crossing his arms, he glared at younger Irken. "Letting someone like you beat me is the one thing that makes my skin crawl."

Not giving them the chance to get into it (yet AGAIN), their instructor stood up abruptly. "That's it! If you two get into ANOTHER fight- any fight, I don't care! –I'm sending you both back to your original classes and writing the both of you up! I'd hate to sink so low as to use an ultimatum, but I've had enough having to reprimand you for something so trivial! So just do the best you can and keep your pride out of it! You have all of five years until you graduate and the rest of your lives after that to gloat. Do you both understand?"

Shrinking back in their seats and eyes growing large, the two let out a weak "Y-Yes, Instructor" before he let them return to the squad bay, proverbial tails between their legs.

* * *

It took a little less than two weeks for Purple to fix his pak and throughout that time he was unable to participate in any more sparing sessions. He was asked on several occasions if he wanted an engineering team to fix it for him but, personally, Purple didn't trust them.

Paks were, literally, an Irken's life. It held a backup of it's host's brainwave patterns, their occupational information, identity, jet boosters, high energy cutter beams, spider legs, short range communications and a gel helmet for short periods of time spent in space. And, most importantly, the host couldn't live without it attached to them for more than an hour. If the host should lose consciousness the pak- after deeming if the host was well enough to continue –could jolt them awake again. To have someone else messing with something so important made Purple sick to his stomach.

But, as he worked, he pondered. In some deep recess, he suspected he didn't actually hate Red though to verbally confirm it still shocked him. Purple knew what hate was- it was the sickly feeling he got whenever he thought of not being the best. It set fire to his brain and sent claws tearing apart his nerves one ending at a time.

No, Red invoked some other feeling entirely. It was more something that set his teeth on edge and brought little insects to scour his innards. And when he gloated with that stupid, shit-eating grin of his, Purple's skin felt pulled too tight, like his head would explode if he didn't get the frustration out.

That, Purpled frowned, was his one weakness. He got frustrated easily and that lead to making mistakes- which Red would ultimately utilize. Perhaps this was just to be taken as a good growing (pardoning the pun) experience. With Red as his rival, it not only brought out this surprising weakness but also gave Purple the chance to overcome it. After all, he wouldn't settle for anything less than top seat.

Five more years of enduring. Flexing his repaired leg and frowning in thought, Purple nodded with finality to himself.

He could do that.

* * *

When Purple set his mind on something, nothing could stop him. So when he translated all the intense dislike (he still hadn't been able to find the proper adjective for this new emotion) for Red into the determination to get ahead, he took a great deal of relish at the dumbstruck look on Red's face when the results of the next exam came in.

Red responded by winning the next sparring sessions and exam.

Throwing themselves utterly into their training, the years passed in a blur of rising scores and growth spurts. Their classmates and instructors could only sit back and gape at the two towering figures.

It was during this period that Purple's emotions began to shift. No longer was Red's presence a constant pain inside his head- he grudgingly began to enjoy the competition if not just to silently brag over his victories –instead, he found that this elusive emotion was starting to be directed to the Irken around him. They were, to put it bluntly, incompetent. They made too many stupid mistakes, were too easily distracted and- for Irk's sake –they were all so short! As much as he hated to admit it, Red WAS the only one even close to his level, the only one whom holding conversation with didn't break his brain.

"Creepily enough, I know what you mean."

Red got the bottom bunk this time. All he did was kick Purple in the shin and claim it. Purple let it go with no words and a wide grin. He supposed it was the least he could do after the embarrassing defeat Red had recently been dealt by his hand.

"And the worst part is," Purple continued, gazing blankly at the ceiling, "that we're supposed to be one of the best classes in recent history."

"Kinda makes you afraid of what the fleet's gonna be like."

"If we're lucky, we'll be ordered to infiltrate some poor sod of a planet before too long."

Red snickered. "I should hope so. Only the best Invaders get field work and there's supposedly no one as good as we are."

"Man, things might get a little boring if that's the case."

"Don't worry, Purple. For all the trouble you caused me in training, when I become the Tallest, I'll be sure to keep you busy."

"If your little dream world keeps you safe at night, dream, dream away."

They lapsed into a sudden silence that felt far too heavy and lacked its usual tension. Red pattered his long fingers against the bedding and Purple shifted above him. Then, suddenly struck with an idea, Purple rolled toward the side and peered down at Red.

"Hey."

"What?"

"Asides from the default, how many emotions do you know?"

Red blinked. "Like… experienced or know about?"

"Know the names of."

"A few, why?"

"I got one that, for the life of me, I can't name. It's like a slow burning in my brain, like if I don't do something I'm just going to snap. It makes me… not really angry or mad, just really, really, uh-"

"Annoyed." Red said helpfully. "Sounds like annoyance."

Rolling the word around in his head, Purple decided that the emotion fit the word fairly well. "Annoyed, huh?" He nodded. "Hmph." Looking down at Red again, he gave a bright, cheery smile that completely belayed the sharp challenge in his eyes. "You're a really annoying bastard. Night!"

He rolled over onto his bed and stretched out to sleep- feeling more content than he had in a long, long while. At the unexpected statement, Red utterly failed to sleep and cursed Purple for his last victory of the night.


	3. The Final Stretch

This particular chapter came out WAAAAAAY longer then I had anticipated. But it's finished and I am glad. I also went back and corrected some spelling mistakes and information from the other chapters, not to mention inserted definitions at the beginning of each. And, though I'm kind of hoping not, I think the next chapter will probably be a fairly long one, too. Oh boy.

I've included G.I.R. units because Gir's actual appearance is different from other S.I.R. units. And it also helps to explain why he was in the garbage can :P

…..I have a feeling there was something else I wanted to put down but I can't remember. Dammit.

* * *

Complex  
3.The Final Stretch  
Virgo

1. An entity made up of three or more interrelated components.  
2. A group of individual structures known or believed to be anatomically,  
embryologically, or physiologically related.  
3. A group of related, often repressed memories, thoughts, and impulses that  
compel characteristic or habitual patterns of feelings, thought, and behavior.

The entire class- those that survived, properly coped, kept all their vital body parts intact and had passing scores –were crammed into the assembly hall. On average, maybe half of a vat would pass Invader Training. Most got too hurt to continue or were unable to keep up (physically, mentally or emotionally) in training. Those that failed had their paks reprogrammed for drone work. A fairly small number, in all actuality, died during training.

As was tradition, the hopeful Invaders were brought before some high ranking military official who ranted and spieled on the greatness of the Irken race as a whole, the military in particular and the elite Invaders' hard work that helped to bring the mighty warmongers where they were today.

This particular speaker, however, had every individual's attention riveted upon him- including all the instructors, monitors and anyone else that was present. This particular speaker was the great Tallest Flitch.

Talk about the planet said he came to personally watch over the skill in which the famed students Red and Purple went through their final exam. This exam took place not only on a large asteroid that circled at the very edge of the system but also in the immediate space around it. Through random drawings, a certain number of students would set up a stronghold on the asteroid and the others would attempt to battle their way to a secured area from space. All of them received a squad of twelve G.I.R. - General Information Retrieval –units, who were being phased out of practical field use by the new and far superior S.I.R. units.

For three days this exam would last and each student would be evaluated on their skills repelling attacks and invading enemy territory- regardless if they eventually lost their stronghold or not. That still meant, however, that the ones that retained the largest territory and forces (asides from being able to destroy enemy G.I.R. units, given the student's hacking ability, they could defect their opponent's forces right out from under them) would mostly receive higher scores.

"This," Tallest Flitch told the gathered students, "is where your skills will truly be shown for the first time. This is where your training will make or break your future. I have no doubt you all will do impressively- your are some of the greatest students to come out of this academy in some time –but do not let that cloud your vision. Think clearly, quickly and ruthlessly. And Invader must never hesitate, you must never show weakness. Mercy is a weakness to us and the weak are only a liability. Be strong and grow mightily. You are the true driving force of our mighty empire. It is the Invaders who inspire the legendary fear that travels through the galaxy. And I will settle for nothing less than the greatest to serve in my military."

Tallest Flitch gazed out coolly on the crowd. He was the first of the Almighty Tallests to implement Invaders as spies and insurgents on planets and he only gave that glory to a select few Invaders. Though he conquered less systems then many of his predecessors, his methodical and surgically cold style helped to spread the Irken reputation as a merciless military force.

And when Red and Purple gazed up at him and heard his voice ringing through their heads, they never wanted anything so badly as to be the one up there, getting the attention and utter devotion they themselves held for him.

Tallest Flitch held out his hand and called out, "Instructors. Monitors. Carry on. And good luck to all of you. I look forward to seeing what you can do."

The class stood up, their antennae held up at attention as their great leader walked off the platform. Even after he left and they were given the command to go pick up their squad and get to their runners (small, one manned ships used for intrasystem travel modified with light weapons and plenty of armor), all of them moved as if in a dream. They had just been in the actual, physical presence of their Almighty Tallest. He was actually going to personally oversee their final exam. Heads were whirling with plans and aggressive anticipation. Red's hands were flexing, anxious to get his squad programmed to his specifications when a messenger got hold of him.

Five minutes later, he was standing before five guard drones, a couple lesser chairmen, Chairman Ley and, not surprisingly, Purple. It was only when they were ordered to attention and gazed, wide-eyed, as Tallest Flitch entered the meeting room, that they realized what was going on.

"So," he said pleasantly to them, indicating for them to sit, "you two certainly are something." They were nearly as tall as he was- a fact that he did not miss. "I do look forward to the outcome of this exam. Now, confidentially, I know about the rumors and about the betting pool. However, I'm just going to let you know right now, even if one of you were taller than me at this moment, you wouldn't become the Tallest. Not yet at least."

He curled his long fingers together, narrowing his green eyes (calm, level-headed, less prone to the maniacal tirades of their kinsmen) slightly. "You don't have enough field experience at this point, you don't know enough about the universe outside the academy to lead the entire armada." He smiled warmly and the two students felt their squiggly spoog flutter. "Don't worry. You still have plenty of time after you've graduated. Whoever graduates second still has a chance to prove themselves the better Invader. Now," standing up, Red and Purple stood in reverence as the Tallest headed toward the door. The guards bowed their antennae and heads in submission. "I've kept you long enough. Go and prepare for your exam. I'll be watching you two closely."

After their leader and his guards left, the chairmen filtered out afterward. And when all that was left was Red and Purple, Red said, "Wow."

"Yeah." Purple agreed.

"I feel like I could take on the whole damn universe right now."

"Yeah."

* * *

According to the chronometer he had a little over an hour until the exam began. Red crossed his arms and lounged back in his seat. The students on the ground were given two hours to get to their allotted plots of territory and set up their defenses while those in space had an hour to get to their positions and plot out their assault.

Red, through his top grade hacking skills, had managed to pull a full diagram of the asteroid from the monitoring ship (it wasn't cheating, it was thinking out of the box). After extensive scrutiny, he noticed that apart from the natural gaps that pocked the asteroid, previous students had dug tunnels through the ground. The asteroid was, in fact, a web work of tunnels and he knew where each one of them went.

This, he decided, was going to be easy.

On his way into his plot, Red had managed to identify one of his immediate neighbors, a fairly competent and slightly above average height student called Glack. He was a much broader and sturdier Irken than Red was- his body mass indicative of his combat skills –but he was fatally inferior to many of his more intelligent classmates and tended to get over zealous when he attempted to compete with them.

Rolling a plan around in his head Red smirked casually to himself. If he took out Glack's position, he'd expand his territory and not only have an unscaleable gorge to one side but also access to the tunnel network below.

Oh yes. This was going to be very easy.

* * *

This was too easy.

Less then twenty minutes into the exam and already Purple had not only taken out one over ambitious classmate but taken all twelve of her G.I.R. units and her runner to boot. Despite all their fire power and programming, G.I.R. units didn't communicate well with each other. Purple took care of that with some careful tweaks in their communications system.

So, while his would be attacker was screaming orders to every individual robot, Purple had his set up in small teams and every order he gave one, the other three in each team responded in the same. He sat back, cackling, as he watched his units swarm about her ship, dismantling the response chips of her forces and runner. Within moments she was forced to jettison herself back toward the monitoring ship.

After finishing to reprogram the last of the captured G.I.R. unit, Purple took control of the runner from the robot he placed at the helm. Now, to go straight to the surface and to take out and assimilate any of the other bothersome creatures still hanging back in space?

After all, there were those that would think an easy way to pass would be just to hang back and let everyone else exhaust themselves in their three-day war. Just how would they take it if someone came from nowhere and took them over unawares?

Deciding he liked the cruelty of that plan, Purple moved his runner to circle the asteroid, every robot's scanner set to long range.

* * *

Perhaps knowing about the tunnels made everything too easy. Of course Red lost a couple units and there were some that made a valiant and (in rare cases) surprisingly good struggle, but all in all, everything was going too easily.

Every opening almost always lead to a student and most of them didn't even realize that there were tunnels around. In the first day alone Red managed to amass a rather impressive army of knee-high robots and a good percentage of territory. He set up his main base in the central opening of the tunnels and kept G.I.R.s posted at each entrance, reporting in any signs of movement or- in case there were none –reporting in every half hour.

If there was one thing that helped to make him so successful, should Red ever look back on this event, it was the fact that Irkens were so damn stubborn. They were prideful and vain, to cooperate with another- especially among the elite –was to admit to weakness. If those that were still on the asteroid's surface had joined together, they would've crushed Red through sheer numbers alone. But they were too full of themselves to realize this and so Red went, pulling the weak little Irken in, one by one and growing stronger every time.

Almost annoyed by this development, Red caught himself wondering where Purple was. He could use a little challenge.

* * *

As it turned out, Purple was simultaneously thrilled and bored. Most of the students that didn't head immediately to the planet had the same idea he had and was trying to pick off anyone else that hung behind. Purple, for all his craftiness, had developed a plan that he couldn't get enough of watching. 

G.I.R. units, when not programmed to a certain individual, would follow any order given to it by anyone. When programmed to a certain individual, they were given the identity tag from the individual's pak. That way they would know who their leader is and their leader's superiors. In battle this gave Irkens an edge because G.I.R.s could be told to attack any biological being that didn't give off a certain coding.

Purple, taking advantage of this, would spend his time on the fringes of his opponents' scanners and shoot out a small transmission device that would attach to the hull of his target's ship. The transmission it gave off, of course, was a coding from his own pak. His target's robots, programmed to attack anything that didn't have their master's signal, would literally tear apart the ship, trying to get to the transmitter. And all the while, Purple would curl up in hysterics watching the hapless Irken try to regain control.

With his miniature fleet of ships (all but three runners he attacked in that manner were still salvageable) Purple continued to make his rounds of the asteroid. After three revolutions around the space body and not a blip on the scans, he decided there was no one else to oppose him.

He turned his sights to the surface.

* * *

It was halfway into the second day before Purple managed to get a stronghold on the asteroid's surface. The main disadvantage about being an invading force from above was the lack of cover he got. Those that were on the surface had not only picked off and assimilated the weaker students but had a day and a half to strengthen their positions.

Purple (who was unable to create more transmitters until he managed to capture another ship because he didn't want to lose any of his robots needlessly) had programmed one ship on autopilot to strafe a student whose base was set up on a ridge. Not only did he have the greatest vantage point on the entire asteroid, but it was near impossible to climb up and the harsh ridges gave him almost complete protection from enemy fire.

But, using the spare ship as a distraction, Purple sent another ship- loaded with G.I.R.s –to ride the uprising of the ridge. By keeping low to the ground and moving at a face pace, it would be difficult to spot the ship while the target was being kept busy.

As the second runner shot over head, the robots leapt from the ship and fell on the fortified position. The other ship- though badly damaged –still had one rail gun working and the defender, hopelessly overwhelmed, was forced to surrender.

After giving the allotted time for the defeated student to clear out, Purple rubbed his hands and set about to secure his new base. Now it was time for some action.

* * *

"How many students have returned to the monitoring ship?"

"78 percent, my Tallest."

"Oh?" Tallest Flitch rubbed his chin thoughtfully. The time on the chronometer said that the second day was drawing to a close. "That's a record of some sort, isn't it?"

"Yes, my Tallest."

"What's the status on Red and Purple?"

"Student Red has taken over 32 percent of the asteroid and amassed 63 percent of the units of his enemies. Student Purple has taken over 18 percent of the asteroid but has amassed 76 percent of the units of his enemies and 81 percent of their runners as well."

"Have they engaged each other yet?"

"Not yet, my Tallest. They're currently practically on opposite sides of the asteroid."

"Oh, good." Adjusting his armor, Tallest Flitch made a move to the door. "Hopefully this meeting will be over with before they start anything. If not, notify me immediately. I don't want to miss anything."

"Understood, my Tallest."

* * *

Circling high over the asteroid was a lone, unmanned ship that Purple had spent a majority of the day heavily modifying. But, due to the sever rewiring, the only purpose it could now serve was a mapping satellite.

With it far overhead and out of range of untampered scanners the ship plotted out the terrain of the asteroid as well as the positions and defenses of his fellow students. It took dozens of passes to get such a detailed layout from such a weak scanner, but it did its job.

Purple studied the holographic map intently, both in a global and flat view. An odd thing he noticed was strange openings in the ground. The scanner showed the vast gaps went further into the asteroid but wasn't strong enough to map out exactly how deep. Frowning at this, he sent to scanner on another pass. This time sending a small transmission, requesting an acknowledgment communication from the various G.I.R. units on the rock.

As the frequencies came back to him, Purple labeled them with classmates' names.

"Tani." He gave an approving noise out the back of his throat. "She's fairly competent. Ren, bah. Pirl… ah, he held promise. Dasi. He could be troublesome. Naka- the fact he wasn't dropped is amazing. Bon, oh how I'd like to rub her smug face in the dirt."

Part way down the list, names stopped coming. Or rather, one name kept coming up continuously. Purple narrowed his eyes and growled through a thin and malicious grin.

"Red… You would be a show off."

Turning his attention away from the list, Purple laid the transmissions on the map, each student's robots lighting up with specified colors. Purple's eye twitched at the sheer mass of Red's lights. Though there was still a large number of others holding their ground, a vast amount of the map was drowned in Red's markings.

Tracing a clawed finger into a cluster of red and turquoise lights, the hologram zoomed into the position. The legend read that Sal's units (in turquoise) had engaged Red's. Despite the excellent fortifications she had put up, she was clearly about to be overrun. Pulling the zoom out he moved to another patch of lights, this one showing Red cleaning up what was left of Naka's territory. Purple narrowed his eyes and bit his lip. He zoomed out again.

Studying the map carefully he took note of each location that Red was attacking. Despite his area curling a crescent around the other surviving students, these new targets were all taking place in the middle of the group. Red had somehow managed to take over someone's territory in the middle of the other students and was working his way outward. The odd part was that for the two Irkens he had attacked, Red also managed to breach them in the middle, capturing both in a pincer attack.

Confused at this information, Purple heightened his security and sat back, waiting for Red's next move.

* * *

Red yawned to himself, tapping a long finger against the ship's panel. He only needed to drive off five more classmates and he'd have control of half the asteroid. This news didn't excite him in the least. These nobodies weren't worth his time. He needed someone who was a challenge, someone who could put up a decent fight.

He needed, as much as he hated to admit it, Purple. HE kept things interesting. Even if he was a pain in the ass.

Checking the status on his units he sent group 8 to Pina's location. With him cleared out it would give Red full control of the gorge. The students on the other side of the gorge thought the sheer cliffs would give them protection. After all, there were still three other, open sides to secure. And that distance the G.I.R.s weren't incredibly accurate. Unless, of course, you had multiple squads of them lined up for a barrage.

Setting up the commands to begin his artillery attack on the foolish Irkens opposite him, Red's antennae pricked up slightly. Hand poised over the controls, he cocked his head to the side, trying to listen.

Because of the lack of atmosphere on the asteroid sound didn't carry. But Red had felt something… wrong. Something that he wasn't supposed to feel. It thrummed so deeply, so lowly he could hear the vibrations in his head.

Again he felt it and heard it, a faint pricking at the back of his neck. Eyes narrowing he set aside the half-formed command in favor of another.

"Perimeter squads," he barked, "report."

First and second squads came back with only static. According to the computer, each robot was still fully functional but, for some reason, they wouldn't communicate. Squad 3 crackled over the comm.

"Sir, Squad 3 is engaging enemy. Insufficient personnel. Requesting backup."

Red slammed a fist against his seat. "Engaging enemy? I didn't order you to engage! Fall back!" Across his screen he saw each unit taking damage. One of them exploded.

"Unable to comply. There are no avenues of escape."

More units were blown up. "Go back through the tunnel you moron!"

"Unable to-" In an explosion of screeching and white noise, the computer flashed a notice, claiming squad three had been annihilated.

Growling, Red hunched over the controls. "What the hell is going on?"

* * *

In Irk's long history, asides from their ability to crush any adversary, there was one other thing the race could claim was a constant among their people. The fact that each and every Tallest that had steered their might had some strange quirk. Tallest Flitch's quirk was bathing. He loved to bathe and would take two hour baths up to four times a day if he was able to. When he finished with a particularly stressful meeting, you couldn't get him out of the gel in less than four hours.

This was where he was when he got a communication feed from the bridge.

"My Tallest." Flitch, after the first embarrassment, had voice-only feed in his bath unless he instructed the computer otherwise. "We believe Purple has engaged Red."

The Tallest gave a skeptic look. "'Believe'?"

"Red has set up his command post in the underground networks. Purple has taken to bombarding the tunnel entrances. He is not only cutting off and destroying several of Red's units but also giving him limited exits."

Cackling to himself, Tallest Flitch gave his rubber duckie a sadistic squeeze. "Good, good! Computer, show me to video feed! This will be interesting!"

* * *

Purple's attack did a lot more damage than he had expected or even knew about. Because of the vast tunneling done, parts of the landscape was unstable. Due to the blasts that caved in the openings, several tunnels also collapsed. Red, forced to uproot his command center, had little more than half his force join him in his exodus. Curling his hands into tight fists, Red knew who the only one remotely smart enough to figure out his location was and cursed himself for thinking of Purple's annoying presence as anything more than someone constantly in the way.

But, despite his low opinion of his classmates, Red always had a fallback plan. Keeping most of his forces at their perimeters to keep up appearance, Red and the rest of his G.I.R.s met at the second RV point. A tiny nitch surrounded by crags, looking almost like a flower. It would cover and conceal him while still allowing him to command his small army.

Checking on the status of his units, Red couldn't believe his luck! His units were still able to capture Pina's location despite the chaos in the tunnel. Good, with the gorge in his hands, Red still had another place to fall back to should the situation arise. Which there was no possible way it-

The runner shuddered violently and pieces of the asteroid crashed around him. Spewing out curses, Red tried to maneuver the ship, but the debris had knocked out the engine system. Without the ship, Red had limited control over his robots through his pak's uplink. Abandoning ship, a G.I.R. unit saluted smartly at him.

"Sir!" It said. "The assault is coming from above. It has been identified as a unmanned runner with two G.I.R. units dropping bombs on our location."

"I realize that." Said Red with deliberate slowness. "I want to know why no one has SHOT IT DOWN YET?"

"Right away, sir!" The tiny robot scampered away, instructing the others in its squad on their attack formation. Carefully floating over the asteroid's surface, Red came across another G.I.R. squad.

"You four. Find out how we're being tracked and destroy it. The rest of you, come with me. Once we've secured another RV, the rest of you will regroup with us there."

"Yes, sir!" The ranks saluted, eyes briefly glowing red before they dispersed.

After the barrage halted and the debris scattered slowly above him, Red's spider legs kicked him toward the opening. Spikes holding tightly onto the rock, he scanned around for any sign of danger. It was then he noticed a small sparkle above him.

A star didn't shine like that, not around here. And the monitor ship wasn't that small. Red narrowed his eyes, his enhanced optics focusing in on the spot. "G.I.R. unit."

"Yes, sir?"

"That runner, is it damaged?"

The robot focused in on the ship and studied it quietly for a moment. "Sir, it is just barely in scanning range but it is safe to say it is on autopilot and undamaged. It appears that it has been heavily modified but it is too far to know exactly for what."

Red scowled. "No need. I know exactly what it's for. Destroy it."

"Yes, sir!"

* * *

Under most circumstances, Purple would've probably been upset over the destruction of his hard-earned scanner. But, because he had enjoyed flushing out and chasing Red around, Purple's mood wasn't dampened in the least.

"All right." He cracked his knuckles. "Now we get down to business."

He watched Red's small figure leap over the rim of the rocks, long, slender spider legs sending him rocketing down the rise. Shifting his ship into gear, Purple took off after him.

Sure, he had plenty of other ships and any G.I.R. unit had the piloting skills to chase him, but this was special. There was no way Purple could beat Red and not be there, doing it himself in person. No. This was too important. He wanted this to be the end of everything. He would beat Red and Red would KNOW that it was Purple and not some handful of robots that did it. He wanted Red to look over his shoulder and see nothing but Purple's superior smirk bearing down on him.

But Red didn't have to look over his shoulder to know Purple was behind him. He didn't even need his robots (the embarrassingly few that survived) to report the ship to him. The spider legs pumped harder, pushing him faster over the terrain as he thought feverishly how to keep from losing. Even if, all things considered, he'd rather lose to Purple then anyone else, he'd really rather not lose at all.

He pictured the asteroid in his mind, trying to think of where he could go when one of the forward guards called out to him.

"There are currently two armies engaging each other over the next rise, sir! All together there are thirty four G.I.R. units and two runners present!"

A plan shot through his head. "All right, then. You!" Red pointed at the robot in the lead. "Fire a mix of missiles and illuminators. The rest of you, get ready for some serious moving." Putting his head down and gauging the distance, he hoped his plan was going to work.

Purple saw the little robot preparing an attack and told his own units to ready their interceptors. He was completely prepared for any attack about to be thrown at him.

Except for the illuminators. That threw him for a loop. He recognized the smaller projectiles the moment he saw them, but the robots were already responding to the ground-to-air missiles and let loose round after round of interceptors. Purple barely had time to cover his eyes before the entire surface lit up like a solar flare.

Wincing at the pain and trying to blink past wobbling spots, Purple scanned the area for his elusive prey. He barely saw Red slipping over the rise. "You bastard." He growled, shifting the runner into a higher gear. "Move out!"

Purple knew about the skirmish on the other side from the last scanner readout before the ship was destroyed and was only partly surprised that Red hoped to lose him in there. He had no idea, however, that Red would make a move like THIS.

Neither, apparently, did the student whose runner Red had busted the left engine to and managed to steer in Purple's direction.

"Shit!" Purple's first instinct was to hit the weapon's panel but changed his mind and hit the eject button instead. The runners were designed especially for the exams so their armaments wouldn't be able to easily destroy each other. The force of the collision threw Purple painfully against the ground. Rebounding off the surface, a thin metal leg stuck in the ground, preventing his inertia from sending him into space.

Growling lowly in his throat, Purple rounded on his rival. "All right." He said. "I've seriously had enough of you. We're ending this for good, now."

Red similarly flexed his hands. "Fine with me."

They charged at each other, scrabbling and punching and trying to pin each other down. Red managed to grab Purple's wrist and nearly put him in an arm bar before a foot landed in his gut and Purple tangled their mechanical legs together, sending them both to the ground. It was only when Red tried to come in with a headbutt that they remembered they were trying to fight in zero G in space. The gel helmets connected several inches before their heads did, making a noise like a bell that made their heads wobble. That's when they noticed their scuffle had propelled them off the ground.

"Oh, crap!" Their legs reached out, trying to grab a hold before they got too far away from the asteroid. If they got stuck in space, they'd be forced to resort to their boosters which was an automatic white flag during the exam.

Purple managed to anchor himself and Red wrapped his arms around his rival's waist. "Leggo!" Purple shouted at him.

"Like hell!"

"Take your defeat with some sort of dignity, dammit!"

Red scowled right back. "I'm not beat yet and you know it!" Purple tried to shake and pry him off in response but Red still held on tight.

"G'ah, you're so annoying!" With no other choice, Purple jerked them in the middle of a mass of G.I.R.s, twisting so Red would take the brunt of the impact, the breath getting knocked out of them both.

For a moment they lay, clinging to the ground and panting before Red glared at Purple.

"You're in the middle of my units, you know."

"So what? I got more units then you do. I could just have them bomb the hell out of you and you won't have enough interceptors to stop them."

"You're too close. You'll get bombed, too."

Purple smiled thinly. "We'll see about that. FIRE ARTILLERY!"

"FIRE INTERCEPTORS!"

They lay, glaring at each other while nothing happened.

They blinked.

"Uh…."

"Hey, these aren't my G.I.R.s!"

"No, they're mine."

The two looked up at an Irken about three-fourths their size. It was Bon, one of the high and mighty sorts that said Purple and Red were getting some 'special favors' and that she was actually the best invader in the class despite getting merely above average marks. They both hated her more than each other.

At that moment, though, she was sitting on top of her runner, looking as if she were queen of the damn universe looking down on something she wouldn't even spit on. "While you two were having your little tiff, I've finished reprogramming not only Pirl's G.I.R.s, but both of yours, too. And now I've just captured you." Her arrogant grin was so large it nearly curled around her eyes. "Feel free to limp back to the monitor ship little boys."

"If we attacked her right now," Purple asked with a slowness that meant his restraint was one word away from snapping, "do you think anyone would be watching?"

"While I'd normally say I don't care, if we attacked her right now, we most likely wouldn't stop."

"Damn."

With a final hiss at Bon's back (turning her back? On THEM? Of all the insulting, conceited, self-absorbed-) the two stood up, their boosters propelling them off the asteroid.

"This is all your fault you know."

"MY fault?"

"If you just gave up with dignity like I said so-"

"I totally had you taken care of!"

"You did not!"

"Oh please!"

* * *

By the time they managed to make it back to the monitor ship the exam was nearly over. This was caused by the embarrassing scuffle they had in the middle of their flight which caused the monitor ship to move in and the head examiner to yell them inside the ship.

After the exam finished there would be a day transition as final scores were calculated, any wounds treated, ships and robots retrieved and fixed and the triumphant gloating. Red and Purple, having already made fools of themselves twice in one day, spent that time keeping as far away from each other as possible.

"All students," the PA system announced throughout the ship, "be at the auditorium for graduation formation in one hour."

Each student was dressed in their formal uniforms- long robes and armored torsos filling the room. They congregated in cliques, talking and laughing and occasionally scowling at the ribbing of their friends. Red and Purple stayed at the edges of the crowd, imperiously above the others and too wary of each other to mingle.

From the large, double doors a guard entered and ordered everyone to attention. A moment later Tallest Flitch entered and motioned for the head monitor forward.

"Is everyone here, Monitor?"

"Er," her eyes darted for a moment, "not exactly all of them, my Tallest." She handed the data pad to her leader. "Student Bon has not reported in yet."

"Hm? Give her five minutes. If she's not here by then she is to be dropped." For a moment he looked thoughtful. "And then have her sent to three cycles at Dirt for punishment. Invaders are supposed to be the elite, after all. Being late for graduation gives a bad image."

"Yes, my Tallest." The rest of the class snickered. They'd gotten tired of Bon's better-than-thou attitude for an entire cycle. Their amusement was short lived, however, when said student came through the door.

"My Tallest." She called out, striding up to him directly and bowing. "Forgive my tardiness, my Almighty Tallest."

Making faces at her and rolling their eyes, Purple told Red, "Only she'd be contemptuous enough to make the Tallest wait on her."

Tallest Flitch stared down at her for a moment, noticing that despite her reverence, coming to him and personally addressing him as a student (and not being given the permission to speak) and the way her antennae were held up in superiority, he pressed his mouth in a thin line.

"Take your place." He said simply and handed the data pad back to the monitor. "Take control."

"Yes, my Tallest." The monitor saluted before turning to class. "You are here," she announced in a loud, clear voice, "because you have completed the most difficult course in all of the Irken Empire. You are now part of the most elite in the whole of the universe, you are now all Irken Invaders. However, there are a select few who have gained for themselves a respect higher than the rest of you. Student Bon, step forward."

With a haughty smile, said student complied. Tallest Flitch, who stood by the monitor, moved forward as well. "I congratulate you on coming out superior on the final exam. Not an easy task I can say from experience."

"Thank you, my Tallest."

Red snorted to himself. "You know she lost almost half of our units before the end of the test?"

"I know." Purple replied. "Makes me want to throw up."

He gave her a humorless smile in return. "For that, I have a special assignment for you. After your pak has been updated, you will report to my aid and he will brief you on your mission."

"Thank you, my Tallest. I will not disappoint you."

This time his smile had a dark edge to it. "No. I don't think you will." He dismissed her back into the formation.

The monitor spoke up again. "Students Red and Purple, step forward."

As they came forward, they bowed their heads and antennae to their leader. His green eyes crinkled in amusement at this. "Stand up straight, both of you. This is, after all, to settle everything since you two came to be in the same class." Straightening, the two exchanged glances as the Tallest continued. "You've both done incredibly well, never in all my long years have I seen such competitiveness and skill. But, unfortunately, only one of you can claim the title as top graduate."

Trying to hide their apprehension, the two stood ramrod straight. Tallest Flitch sighed. "As much as I'd like to give the title to both of you, I'm afraid Red managed to eke out ahead just slightly." Purple's entire body drooped in shock as Red's eyes widened. "Congratulations, Invader Red. You did well."

"Th-Thank you, my Tallest!" He was practically shaking with euphoria, not minding that his leader was chuckling good naturally at him.

"The rest of you," the Tallest said, "will report to the encoding rooms to update your paks and receive your next duties. Dismissed and congratulations." The group cheered and chattered happily to each other as they left, Red practically skipped his way out of the room. As Purple turned to leave, however, Tallest Flitch grabbed his shoulder.

"Now," the old Irken said, "I know you're disappointed about this, but don't let it bother you." He smiled kindly at Purple's questioning face. "I have a specially special assignment for you."


	4. Marching Orders

Yeah... All I can say about this is I completely lost all track of thought during this. I had it planned out, then it, well, just wouldn't /flow/. So, I'm sorry for the shortness and the choppiness and the utterly failing to do dual POVs. I was originally going to have this be two chapters but I didn't have the time (and when i had the time, i didn't have the brain power) to get all the little intrecacies that I needed to have figured out for it. I have a clearer picture for the next chapter. Hopefully that's not going to be crap, too.

* * *

Complex  
4.Marching Orders  
Virgo 

1. An entity made up of three or more interrelated components.  
2. A group of individual structures known or believed to be anatomically, embryologically, or physiologically related.  
3. A group of related, often repressed memories, thoughts, and impulses that compel characteristic or habitual patterns of feelings, thought, and behavior.

Purple was led down the hall to one of the briefing rooms. Tallest Flitch sat at the desk and motioned for Purple to take a seat across from him.

"You must be disappointed," the Tallest said lightly, "that you didn't graduate at the top of the class." He picked up a data pad that clicked under his fingers. "You two were very, very close the entire time. Really the only reason Red beat you was because you skipped more years than him so you have less experience."

Purple opened his mouth but Flitch just gave him a flat look. "Not the best reason, I know, but the council refused to have two top graduates." He sighed. "I had hoped to change their minds but…"

Uncertain what to say, Purple closed his mouth.

"Here." Tallest Flitch slid a data pad across the desk. "This is where you'll be sent to: Alpha Quadrant, Dijus System. The second planet is called Atria. It's predominantly woodlands and rainforests. The dominant species are the Monmen. They dwell almost exclusively in the treetops where they've built a rather sophisticated city network."

Skimming through the information Purple frowned. "They don't seem too impressive. Powerful bodies but their brain mass is barely average."

"No, their not considered a highly intelligent bunch but their instincts aren't to be taken lightly. It almost borders on 'sixth sense'." Tallest Flitch wove his fingers together. "One of our Invaders was captured on that planet- a very competent and somewhat tall fellow. Blending in was his specialty but the Monmen still managed to sniff him out. We had to publicly apologize and explain that it was just a field exercise. The reason we're sending you there is because they're more on guard than ever and we've found that there's good mineral and other natural resources we need on that planet. Do you think you're up for this, Invader?"

* * *

Red looked at the data pad again. "Infiltrate Atria and exploit the Monmen's weakness?" He grinned broadly. "It'll be my pleasure, my Tallest." 

Red was not only one of the last to get his assignment but also one of the last to leave the monitor ship, though this was mainly for the fact that part of his equipment issue changed after he received his orders. It took him almost an hour trying to return his issued S.I.R. unit.

"Look," he told the little drone, "the planet I'm assigned to doesn't have this sort of technology and the dominant species doesn't come in such a small size. I can't take it with me due to possible mission compromise." He didn't know why it was so hard to comprehend, but he was about ready to tear his antennae out in frustration.

During his trip to Atria, Red reviewed his information. The Monmen were a tree dwelling species with sinewy bodies and long, bulging arms that steepled into claws. Despite their advanced culture, they had sloping brows and small brains. But what they lacked in intelligence they made up with instinct and intuition- that ability to tell that something wasn't right or something was about to happen was wide spread in the few space faring species of that area.

With no natural enemies on the planet, they were herbivorous by nature. Though they were peaceful, their strengths lay in their powerful and quick bodies and impressive hearing. Their only weakness was their poor eyesight.

Red's first thought was to just burn the planet to the ground, but moisture hung in the air like a blanket. Only outright razing would do anything to the perpetual misting but their armies were spread out on all fronts. Alpha Quadrant was almost fully occupied and thus had the least amount of occupational force.

Musing over his next step, Red sent a message back to the main force's body. "This is Invader Red reporting from Dijus-2. I am now beginning orbital surveillance. I will report in at regular intervals or at any status change. Invader Red out."

He leaned back in his cruiser (Ciel-class, more spacious and better suited for long periods in space and long-ranged surveillance than the Voot-class) and programmed the computers for information retrieval. And now to watch and wait.

* * *

Purple, however, took an entirely different approach. He landed on the planet a good hundred clicks away from the Monmen's major treetop city. He covered the ground quickly with his spider legs, a bag hooked to his waist with small, burrowing surveillance gear. Despite the humidity, Purple felt no discomfort having swindled his way into possessing a protective suit that could guard against both the vacuum of space and intense underwater pressure. 

During their time in training, none of the Irkens saw very many trees and those they did were just pitiful mockeries in comparison to what Purple was surrounded by on this planet. The trees were almost twice width of his cruiser at the base and all rose over 100 feet high.

Nearing the city, Purple slowed his approach and crouched lower to the ground. Though it was highly doubtful he would be spotted from the city, he didn't want to risk being seen by some wayward Monmen exploring the ground.

The center of the city sprawled out from a central tree so large it took Purple nearly five minutes to walk around it and branched up and out, canopying the sky with massive branches and thick leaves. Folding himself among the roots, Purple programmed a small electronic drill. After he let it drill into the tree he'd be able to control it from his ship, letting it travel high into the city, able to decipher vibrations through the bark.

He set up eight drills all together in different sectors of the city and, for good measure, laced the ground level with several motion sensors. Anything that passed within a ten meter radius would be recorded until it left the sensor's range.

He, too, had briefly toyed with the idea of setting fire to the planet but decided that plan lacked a certain grace. Anyone could set fire to a planet full of trees. He wanted his first assignment to be memorable. He wanted to make sure everyone knew his name.

He would, under no condition, fail his Tallest.

* * *

While Purple spent the next several months deciphering the Monmen's rudimentary language, differentiate between levels of speech and mapped out migrations of ground species, Red had a vague bird's eye view of the whole city. Though, from the distance, he lost a vast amount of detail, he could trace out daily movements and had created a social breakdown of both the city and social customs. 

Late into his monitoring he suddenly realized something odd. Focusing intently on the information before him, Red made a decision. Shifting his cruiser out of orbit, Red headed toward the planet's surface.

* * *

It took much longer for Purple to realize what Red had. His own realization came when a group of young Monmen (adolescents judging from their size) were scavenging for medical herbs that didn't grow in the trees. They were cornered by a pack of wolf-like creatures. Their jaws were long and huge with large horns jutting out for a full charged goring. 

Reviewing the video feed from the event, Purple realized that the Monmen had canine teeth of their own though a majority of them were square and flat. Curious at this, Purple went around to where the Monmen came down to bury their dead.

The dead Monmen were wrapped in large, smelly leaves that preserved the bodies and kept scavengers from disturbing their rest. Dissecting the freshest body he could find, Purple found that their jaws were, indeed, developed for both herbivorous and carnivorous habits. The muscles in their neck and jaw were so powerful it could snap through bone.

But what Purple couldn't understand was if they were so capable of biting through their opponents, why did the Monmen make it a point not to get their powerful jaws anywhere near the wolf things?

For half a week Purple thought and planned. At the end of that time, the spot Purple's ship had stayed for a number of months bore only a wide hole as the only sign of his presence.

* * *

Though Red and Purple had both figured the only way to progress in their mission was to head to the tree tops beyond the city's outskirts, they wound up on different sides. 

The city itself spanned several dozen miles with lacing bridges and vast housing networks that wove between branches. Purple had taken his position in what Red had labeled the working class. There all the craft work was done- furniture, bridges, tools and small personal items were made in that area. Red himself set up his base just outside of the area he had originally deemed as the farming area. He would later rename it as the religious sector.

Red found, watching the daily proceedings from a quarter mile away, that this was not only the area in which the Monmen would eat, there was a set way in HOW they could eat. There were four meals a day and each was at a set time. Before they could eat, they would perform a ceremony in which they bowed before their food and raised their heads and hands to the sky, cooing in some language he couldn't understand.

And, something else he noticed upon further observation, there was actually a ceremony on how they PREPARED the meals, also. From how they cut and gathered the plants from the trees and ground to how they cooked it. There were different meals prepared on different days or different cycles of the moon or when there was some sort of holiday or other celebration.

Red often times sat in his cruiser in utter confusion. Irkens just ate what they wanted when they could. Eating was, really, something that got in the way of conquering people. He'd never known anyone who took eating so seriously.

A thought suddenly hit him.

HOW seriously, he wondered…

* * *

"This is Invader Purple reporting in. I've discovered a strange ritual- subtle, almost religious in nature –in the Monmen society. I'm sending small scouting units to other major Monmen communities to see if this is just an isolated tradition. If not, then I believe we can have this planet set for conquest within a year."

* * *

Tallest Flitch's long fingers beat out a rapid tattoo against the arm of his chair. Invading planets was generally a long process, a good number taking up to five years. He shouldn't be getting impatient. Not when he sent his two top Invaders out a little over a year ago. Except he sent them to the same damn planet and, according to the reports, they hadn't even become aware of each other yet. 

He rolled his eyes. For such clever Irks, they were really blind.

Maybe it's too much to be expected, though. If they eventually encounter each other he hoped they'd learn something from their earlier rivalry.

The Tallest looked at the data pad in his other hand, a report gathered from all his closest advisors and he didn't much like the situation.

If the two didn't end up working together, Tallest Flitch was going to be out a LOT of monies.

* * *

"This is Invader Red reporting in. After two years of observation, planning and setting up, I am now ready to initiate the final stage of my mission. Once the Monmen have been properly placated, I will give the signal to invade." 

"You," Purple told himself proudly, "are a genius. You should get a medal for this."

This creation of genius was actually a plan a year and a half in the making. He had captured and experimented on a good number of the flora and fauna, conditioning the animals to eat the ground based plants the Monmen would gather and even going so far as to call in some off world insects to infect and wither tree branches of the Monmen's fruit trees.

An army, after all, moves on its stomach. Cripple their food supply and taking over would be an easy walk in the park.

But, pressing his mouth in a thin line, Purple knew with the amount of plants in the area, this process on its own would take far too long. The Monmen had taken cooking to a level beyond art, beyond a way of life. They could make something edible- and rather tempting in his opinion –out of almost of anything. What he needed was a secondary phase. Something to keep them from eating as well as before.

His answer would inevitably trigger his ship's alert system.

Antennae pricking at the beeping, Purple brought the alert up on screen and was completely blindsided by what he saw.

"RED?" He gaped. "HERE?"

Not caring about saving face, Purple stormed out of his ship and met Red halfway there. If there was one thing he could take pleasure from the situation from was the fact that Red was just as equally flabbergasted at his presence.

"What are YOU doing here?" They accused.

"Me?" Purple gritted out. "Tallest Flitch gave me this assignment personally!"

Red narrowed his eyes. "No, he gave it to ME."

"I got here first!"

"Yeah right!"

"You wanna finish it now?" Purple hissed, spider legs extracting from his Pak.

"Bring it on, punk!" Red shot back. "We'll finish this once and for all!"

They growled at each other, the laser tips on their spider legs glowing dangerously. They stared each other down, snarls set.

As the sun faded into the clouds overhead for the forth time since their face off, Red's sneer turned into a frown. "You know what," he said flatly, "neither of us are going to back down and both of us know that already."

Purple seemed to deflate. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." He sighed, legs retracting as he crossed his arms. "So what do you want?"

"I noticed some odd things happening around the place." Red replied. "I picked up a signal a while ago but I thought it was just an electrical discharge from the thunderstorm at the time. When I found out the plants were being eaten or ruined, I decided to take a closer look and found a Lieten bug." Red tapped a finger against his arm. "And, because they're not indigenous to this world and the only place they are is under Irken control, I looked up where the signal came from and followed it here."

"Well," Purple's smile was all teeth, "you found me. So what're you going to do?"

Red narrowed his eyes. "This is my assignment. I'm not letting you take it away from me."

" 'Your' assignment?" He snorted. "I seem to be further along than you. What were you planning on doing?"

"My plan is to make meat available as an alternative food supply. It's against their religion to eat meat so they either break coda or they starve to death."

"That-," Purpled paused, a blank look on his face, "that's actually a pretty cool idea."

Stunned, Red blinked and then looked down, somewhat sheepish. "Yeah, well… I just haven't been able to figure out how to force them to choose."

"Hey, I actually have an idea. What if, asides from forcing them to eat meat, we offer them an alternative food solution on top of that a couple weeks after no food? Plants and fruits, but have the meals laced with meat. That way when those that attempt to claim they kept their religion but when the others they prosecute for failing their 'faith' learn about it, it'll cause a riot."

The other Irken returned the grin with equal parts malice and bloodthirsty anticipation. "You know, maybe we should start talking partnership."

* * *

Tallest Flitch squirmed in his seat, cackling as his closest advisors read the report with the same jaw-dropped expression. 

"Invader Red reporting in. Invader Purple and I have decided to collaborate our efforts in order to suppress this planet at a faster rate. We have just begun the final phase of our plan and will contact the fleet once the planet is properly pacified. Invader Red signing out."

The Tallest had to stuff his hands in his mouth to keep from giggling too loudly as his advisors grumbled, digging out monies to send to their leader. One of them muttered something about him being known as the Almighty Tallest that bankrupt the empire.

That was fine with him though. So long as he was the one getting the monies.

"Red, Purple," he toasted the distant planet on screen, "you boys do me proud."


	5. Even Footing

This... took a while. And is very long. And I apologize for the delay. HOPEFULLY the other chapters won't take this long. But then hopefully the other chapters won't be over 10 pages in lenght, either...

I will say this, though, I like how this came out

* * *

Complex  
5.Even Footing  
Virgo

1. An entity made up of three or more interrelated components.  
2. A group of individual structures known or believed to be anatomically, embryologically, or physiologically related.  
3. A group of related, often repressed memories, thoughts, and impulses that compel characteristic or habitual patterns of feelings, thought, and behavior.

After having decided to work together, Red and Purple were amazed at how quickly their plan came to fruition- cutting down more than half the time they had estimated working on their own.

The first step took a little longer than expected. For whatever religious reason the Monmen took to forsaking meat, they took it very seriously. Only when 5 of the city had died of starvation and the rest quickly following did many break down and feed upon the flesh of other creatures. Once that happened, Purple let loose a pheromone into the atmosphere that drove the foreign insects into a frenzy, working themselves to death. Red had developed a type of hybrid plant and had sown those into the fertile soil of the planet.

Endless months of engineering brought about this beauty the two of them were so proud of they didn't mind sharing credit for it. It had a hormone in it that gave the Monmen an undeniable urge to gorge themselves on meat. So while few openly feasted on meat, others coveted the action like the utter sin they believed it was.

As they predicted, in-fighting began to break out. Arguments and scuffles created rifts and rifts became a civil war. Cackling over their predictable adversaries and the flawlessness of their own plan, Red and Purple moved their base of operations to space.

Within three years of landing on the planet they sent off a message to the fleet at the height of the war and waited for the armada to arrive.

It was time to invade.

* * *

A year later and they were still fighting, Red scowled to himself as he ordered the ship on a strafing run. The Monmen were surprisingly resilient despite the suddenness of the Irken attack. Deciding the Irkens were a bigger threat, the Monmen were actually capable of setting aside their dietary prejudice and fought back. Despite their lack of technology, they grew quickly aware of the Irkens' lack of experience in heavily wooded areas and their natural aversion to water. Asides from that, the larger Irken battle ships and battle suits couldn't be utilized in the thick forests.

As it was, they were currently in a stalemate. Red, having been given command of a small fleet for the invasion, offered to lead his platoon on an attack on the densest line of defense.

His ships were altered Mirri Skimmers. They were small, low flying, two-man skiffs used specifically for tight maneuvering. Generally lightly armed and armored, Irken engineers modified them with an extra two-inches of reinforced titanium plating, a wide-barrel electron blaster cannon (EBC, especially useful under wet conditions) and a .50 caliber automatic gattling gun with anti-armor ammunition (which could cut through a dozen trees easy). With the added .50 cal turret, the two-man ship turned into three- pilot, turret gunner and navigator.

The pilot (a quick little thing called Conus who Red had decided to have fly all his major missions) called out a visual confirmation of enemy fighters from above. The sharp tattoo from the turret confirmed that the gunner had seen them as well. Red smirked to himself. He hand picked the two himself and was glad to see them not disappoint.

"Sir!" The gunner reported through the intercom. "Enemy targets neutralized!"

Grunting in response, Red tapped into a precision targeting satellite that hovered in low orbit. Though the immense foliage obstructed its targeting systems it was still useful in gathering information on enemy movement. "Expect heavy resistance coming up." He told them. "Almost a company strong a click ahead."

Conus tightened her grip over the controls. "What's the plan of attack, sir?"

To this, Red grinned vilely, fingers itching over the EBC consul. "Barrel straight through them. Anyone dumb enough not to get out of our way deserves what they get."

Any lesser species would flinch at the thought of a suicide mission. But for Irkens it was the height of living.

* * *

Purple was rather enjoying himself. To a point. Though senseless violence and killing brightened any day, there was something he found… odd. A feeling brought about by the fact that the Monmen- despite being one of the less technologically advanced species the Irkens have ever encountered –were still in fighting condition. Invasions didn't take a year. They took two months- six at most. But, just when they thought they'd have this planet under control (plans were already up to level the planet and bids among the few Irken allies for the trees were reaching satisfactory amounts) the Monmen were suddenly fighting back.

And not just fighting back but holding them to a standstill.

They had very few projectile weaponry. No guns or cannons, but catapults and slings and a fair array of handheld weapons. Some of the higher ranking Irkens grew concerned when studies of damaged vehicles suggested the weapons were high-frequency pulsators, where a weapon would vibrate so finely it became super-heated and broke down the molecules of the armor it came in contact with. It, in short, was able to slice through practically any light to medium armored vehicle the Irkens were limited to on this planet. And in all his time studying the creatures Purple knew there was no way they could've been able to come up with that technology let alone be able to mass-produce it so quickly.

But they were such an isolated species that no other race had made commercial relations with them. The only way this could have happened, Purple figured, was if another race opposing to the Irken conquest had realized what was going on and was supplying them. But even so how could they get through the massive security network that blanketed the entire system?

Upon gaining permission, Purple sent his platoon of soldiers to infiltrate behind enemy lines. They blended nicely into the trees through natural coloring and- though the average Monmen could climb slightly faster then them –their lighter, smaller bodies made them more agile through the treetops. For most of the morning they traveled deep into Monmen territory in groups of four. The tine spines on the spider legs gave them the ability to move among branches too light to carry the Monmen and only on very few occasions were any of them spotted. And those that had seen them were quickly disposed of.

In all honesty, none of them knew what they were looking for. Just clues or stock houses or, if they were really luck, some sort of drop point. And if you wanted to keep depending on something as inconsistent as luck, a name and forwarding address would do just as well.

They covered eight miles across, each soldier with optical enhancements that could not only zoom in 200x but could also read the signals given off by an infrared coder. By the 8th hour of traveling they came across the first large establishment from the front line. Purple, with the group in the middle of the line, had signals sent to both ends.

With noiseless precision all sixteen squads surrounded the complex and prepared for a security breach. Purple led the way with determination and an armed detonator.

* * *

This planet was supposed to be relatively untouched. It was supposed to be pristine and natural and isolated from the rest of the space faring species. It was, after all, out of the way. And asides from the vast forests (timber being a commodity only few advanced races were in need of) it had nothing the traders felt was worth the detour.

"So then why the hell," Red cursed to himself, "do they have SHIELDS?"

After plowing through the line, Red's ship swung about, firing all the weapons upon the Monmen's rear. But when he targeted the EBC on a large number on Monmen the weapon just fizzled over them in an orange, shimmering ball.

Energy shields, he recognized. They dispersed the electrons and rendered the wearers fairly invulnerable to the cannon. A fully charged hit, though, would over clock the personal generator and render it useless but to get a powerful enough charge would take too much time. As Conus swung the skimmer around to fishtail into a row of Monmen, Red pounded on the communication panel.

"All skimmers! Converge on this point and attack!"

The comm crackled into life. "Roger that, Wing Leader, we're on our way!"

A series of high pitched whining rumbled through the forest and those that turned to look at the sound were cut down by Red's gunner. Coming in at near super sonic speeds was the rest of Red's fleet- fifteen skimmers in all, crashing through the underbrush and tossing the mammals into the air at break neck speeds.

With so many ships and guns keeping the Monmen occupied, it gave them enough time to power up the EBCs and soon what was left of the line scattered into the woods. Red ordered them off the chase and instead radioed in for permission to find and destroy the nearby barracks and armament depot. Almost immediately he was given the go ahead.

They weren't even in visual contact with either buildings before a counter force struck.

"Hey!" Someone said over the comm. "There's something-" From somewhere to Red's far right something exploded.

"What happened?" Red barked out.

"We lost Wing 12! It just careened into a tree!"

His antenna twitched in displeasure. "Watch where you're going! You weren't picked because you were idiots!"

"No- wait!" Another Irken said. "There's something here, I can see it above the- WAAAAAAAAH!"

The radar bleeped in a panic. Red belted out, "ALL STOP!"

Crashing from the trees came a skimmer, nicking the nose of another and crashing a third into a burning wreck. As the ships slammed through the trees, a hard-edged creature jumped from the first skimmer's stabilizer and high into the treetops. It landed with a thud on another ship two skimmers over from Red, tearing a jagged rip from engine to fuselage and bashing at the cockpit. Reacting on instinct and panic the other gunners fired at it, setting sparks in the leaking fluid and the entire ship flipped forward from the explosion.

Red gapped as the metal… THING clamped onto a tree and scuttled up it like a giant spider.

That… That was a….

* * *

"VORTIAN WEAPONS?" Snarling Purple hurled the weapon, not even being satisfied that it cracked in five placed against the wall. "What the hell are Vortian weapons doing on this miserable planet?"

"Sir," Purple's second in command stood just behind him, "we've finished going through the rest of the cargo. All of them are Vortian made items."

"Those prune-faced, goat-brained midgets!" The other Irkens winced (for the Irkens there was no insult worse than being called 'small'). "Blatantly breaking their alliance with us by supplying our enemies with weapons specifically designed to sabatoge our efforts!" He ranted, kicking over another box of cargo. It tipped open and grenades spilled out. The other Irkens flailed for a moment before they realized they weren't armed.

Rubbing his hands irritably over his face, Purple took several deep breaths and brought himself some semblance of calm. "Okay," he gritted out. "This is what we're going to do. Get all the information you can on the weapons. Serial numbers, archetype, quantity, when they were dropped if you can. We'll upload the information to command once we're back in friendly territory. Once that's done, everyone take up whatever's useful to us without bogging you down. Anything we can't take, leave here. Once we let command know what's going on- if they don't give us any other orders -we're going to blow this place."

His troops dipped their antennae in response. "Yessir!"

* * *

That was a Vortian Gorge Walker! The planet Vort was mainly mountains and canyons- the Gorge Walkers allowed them to crawl up the craggy sides and make leaps up to a mile in length. They were more like bodysuits than actual vehicles that enhanced the Vortians' natural jumping ability. The Monmen had similar builds, particularly with the double-jointed legs. Because they were so much larger than Vortians when fully grown, the Gorge Walkers were apparently manned by adolescents- their amazing strength and speed more than doubled in the suit.

"Sir!" A voice cried over the comm. "What're our orders?"

"Can anyone track it on their radars?"

"Negative. The satellite can't get a lock, either."

Red growled, his hand twitching in anger. "Everyone, hold your position and stay alert! There's no telling where it'll la-"

There was a shout and the sound of weapons discharging, followed by an explosion that sent three other skimmers careening into trees.

"Cease fire, dammit, cease fire!" Red bellowed at his fleet.

"Sir, Wing 8 is destroyed-"

"Wing 4's engines to half power-"

"No response from Wings 3 and 10-"

"Wing 11's taken shrapnel-"

"ALL WINGS!" He snapped. "Tow in all crippled ships and fall back to the assault line!"

There was a brief silence of surprise. "But sir!"

"Don't question my orders! Make sure nothing is left behind and go!" Twisting off the comm line, Red turned to his gunner and driver. "We're going to stay behind and deal with this thing. If either of you want to leave, there's still a clear shot to command. You'll be fine if you stick to high ground."

The other two looked at each other briefly. Conus eventually said, "Do you plan to die here, sir?"

He grimaced. "Most definitely not."

"Then I think the safest place is with you." The gunner grinned in agreement. Red couldn't help the fond twitch of his lips.

"If that's your decision, so be it." He flicked the scanners to heat-seek and commanded the skimmer to be taken to hover mode. The interior roared as the propellers beneath the ship whipped into action, several dozen small blades cushioning air under them in a frictionless balloon. "Use only minimal thrust. Don't move until you see the Walker bearing down on us. And don't fire unless given the command."

"Yessir." They responded, sitting in tense silence as they waited.

With the other ships gone it limited the Monman's target to one and, though they were ready for it, the vast amount of trees and various angles of attack gave their enemy the element of surprise.

The only things on our side, Red thought to himself, was the fact that the Monmen wouldn't have nearly enough time to completely master the suit. That and it was merely a climber armed only with grappling hooks and not a military style Walker. Those wouldn't be able to maneuver too well in the tight quarters of the upper branches and were probably too heavy to be supported-

Red wanted to smack himself in the face, gnashing his teeth at being so slow. "Gunner," he said suddenly, startling his shipmates, "I'm going to give you targets. Shoot at them for one cycle when I tell you."

The gunner agreed before he fully grasped what Red was saying. The first series of bullets tore through the bark of a thick tree 38 meters above them. A half minute later he shot up another tree several yards lower and to their right. For several minutes they did this until the gunner braved- his voice hesitant and apologetic –the question, "Sir? Am I just shooting randomly?"

Red just grinned back. "That's what it'll think."

Relieved that his superior had a plan, the gunner vigorously continued chipping bark from the trees. Red knew that they had gotten close to the Monman on more than a few occasions but had ignored chasing after rustling leaves in favor of his plan. Suddenly the forest was filled with a thunderous crackling and the trunk of one of the treetops splintered. They saw a flicker of movement crossing the leaf-speckled skyline before another tree began to list heavily. Another grappling line shot out and the Walker latched on to a tree, the impact destroying the already compromised tree. In blind panic it shot out for another tree, but each one toppled over with the strain of the heavy Walker's weight.

The skimmer whirled about, ducking neatly under each fallen trunk. "The moment you get a clear shot," Red told his gunner, "kill it."

"Aye, sir."

And maybe Red had miscalculated. Or maybe the young Monman was that determined to go down fighting because it continued to pull down treetops as it flailed and even if it wasn't shot to death or killed on impact, it would've been crushed by the tons upon tons of trees following it at breakneck speeds.

Conus tried her best to weave about, but the increase in fallen objects and the wide branches limited the skimmer's movement. The force of each trunk's impact in the ground corrupted the propellers' air current and it wobbled unsteadily, clipped on all sides by branches ranging from hair thin to as thick as an engine block. One branch bounced the skimmer into a trunk, launching it into the air where it was battered by another falling tree and crashed into the ground, bottom up. The Monman hit the ground with a broken thud, its spine cracked in three places and fractured bones piercing its organs. Its agony was short lived when it was crushed by the falling treetops.

Red moaned, managing to get to his hands and knees after several false starts. He coughed and called out to his shipmates. Neither answered back. Dizzy and limping, Red crawled over to Conus and accessed her pak. It bleeped at him, replying that, while she was alive, she sustained several minor head injuries and internal bruising. Going to the gunner (whose name he suddenly couldn't remember- great, he was probably concussed) he noticed the unnatural way he laid across the back of the .50 cal. Having hastily added in the weapon, there wasn't enough time to create a proper safety harness. He apparently shattered his collar bone on the buttstock and his pak bleeped, requesting medical treatment.

Panting and overexerting himself, Red tried the emergency exit hatch, but it was shut tight. Most likely a part of a tree had fallen over it. Dragging his body to the communications panel (where it sparked sullenly and was barely functioning) Red sent out a distress call and hoped someone would hear it.

* * *

Purple and his group were proceeding back to their own side slowly. Mainly for the fact that they had found the rest of the Monmen's Walker platoon. For precautions, Purple had sent the squads at the ends of the procession forward, just in case they somehow got into a fight with the Walkers and failed to win. That left Purple with about eight squads to work with and- if they organized right –enough firepower to deal with the potential threat.

Each squad was made up of four different parts known as Team, Ready, Fire and Assist. Team was the leader of the squad, Ready carried the radio and signaling equipment or any other electronics for the mission. Fire and Assist both carried the most weaponry though Fire- generally placed forward of the squad –had a long-range scope and a wide-ranged, automatic weapon while the Assist carried the heavy weapons such as RPGs and demolitions. Purple's squad followed the platoon directly so he could readily judge the course of action. His Ready quietly gained his attention.

"Sir," his antennae signed to him, "we're receiving a faint Irken distress signal."

"Location?" He signed back.

"About three miles ahead, bearing 12 degrees to the south."

Purple debated. Though they were told never to leave any Irken technology (especially paks which could easily discern their weaknesses) behind, it wasn't an unfamiliar course of action to leave Irken stragglers behind. After all, they had no use for the weak. Instead of coming to a decision he tuned into the signal that was bounced from the far squads.

A voice crackled brokenly in his head: "This is In-der Red –questing back up. –skimmer's trapped, the –lot and gunn- are uncon-ous. Can't –out. –vader Re- requesting –ck up-"

Purple's eyes narrowed to mere slits. Red? The transmission made his body run cold. If Red was killed now there would be no one to stand in Purple's way to become the next Tallest. It wasn't surprising to leave the weak behind. But… Purple bit his lip. Red WASN'T weak. He was just as powerful and intelligent as Purple was and to let someone with that much talent die so wastefully in a fight that shouldn't have become… THIS…

His attention was drawn to the Walkers that suddenly switched directions. Purple growled to himself. "They've picked up the transmission, haven't they?" He signed to his Ready.

The only part of the nod he saw was the bowing of antennae. If it were anyone else, Purple thought, he wouldn't hesitate to let him rot. But… he REALLY hated the Monmen and giving them the satisfaction of killing someone that was very nearly his equal (but inferior) didn't sit right with Purple.

Growling and fidgeting and generally abhorring Red's very existence, Purple knew he was going to kick himself for this later.

The Irkens moved across the trees several meters above the Walkers, keeping in tandem with the machines to keep from being spotted. They were forced to an early stop when they came across a sudden clearing of half-trees, trunks littering the forest floor. The Walkers were clearly hesitant at the amount of destruction to their home while the Irkens appraised the sight with dark smirks. They frowned, however, at the underbelly of one of their Mirri Skimmers, mostly buried in leaves and half crushed beyond recognition. One of the stabilizers poked through the foliage, nearly severed from the main body. Even from where they were Purple could smell fuel leaking out.

"Orders, sir?"

Purple rolled the situation around in his head before he stated: "They'll try to take the crew hostage. Walkers are strong enough to move the trees away so we'll wait until they clear off the ship before we attack. Have the right side circle around and, once the command is given, have them fire RPGs on the Walkers further out. The others will have to be taken down with precision shots- the Walkers aren't military issued so there's plenty of gaps in the armor to kill the operators. The ones closest to the skimmer, though, will have to be taken down melee style. We don't want to risk blowing up the ship just yet."

"Do you think the ship is operational?"

"If it was, they wouldn't be sending a distress signal. We're not too far from the armory. Have someone unload the fuel and trail it back to the armory. When we blow the ship, that'll go up with it."

"Yessir."

"I'm going to take two squads down to the ship. We'll use only spider legs and cutters- and be careful not to spark close to the leak."

The Ready nodded and relayed the message to the other squads. They had long since maneuvered into their positions before the Monmen could get the last tree off the ship. Purple signaled and a propelled grenade blew up a Walker in a mess of heat and blood. Several other explosions impact on or around the machines, drawing the Walkers away from the ship before Purple and his squads swung in behind them like leaves through shadows.

Before the Walkers were aware of the rear assault, two of them had suddenly dropped to the ground, the pak cutters quickly severing the limbs from the main bodies. Purple and two others tried to pry one of the emergency hatches open but the metal had twisted the hinge until it was wedge into a crease. Frustrated, Purple took an evaluating look at the fight around him. A few of the Walkers were holding their own but most of the Monmen fell to their baser instincts and retreated up nearby trees. Though the Irken squads were slower, it gave them a safe distance to use heavier firepower.

Purple, not certain how long they could curb the attack before reinforcements came, carefully began to cut the door free with one cutter. Motioning the others to step back, Purple reared all four legs back and smashed the hatch in.

He almost didn't dodge the shot that came from inside.

Red's blaster lowered slightly. "Oh." He said, calmer than he felt. "It's you."

Purple gritted his teeth and GLARED- kicking himself for this stupid rescue sooner than he thought. "Yeah. Me. And you're gonna pay for this one, too." The attack had splintered two of his spider legs and they barely managed to fold back inside the pak. He took stock of Red's condition- tilting to one side and having trouble focusing. If he had been in top condition, Purple probably wouldn't have survived that.

He waved the other two drones forward. "Grab the pilot and gunner." Purple, being the only one tall enough, was granted the unappealing task of having to carry Red. Just as he was propping Red upright, he received a message.

"Sir, this is Squad 3. We've finished trailing the fuel to the armory and are headed back but we've come across another group of Walkers- these look to be squad sized and they check out as military issued and their heading your way."

G'ah- would NOTHING go right today? With his spider legs out of commission and Red in no condition to pilot himself, Purple could only come up with one conclusion. Thick tubes came from out of Purple's pak and attached Red securely against his chest. The other Irken's head lulled slightly and Purple gave him a jostle.

"Stay awake!" He hissed. "If you die while I kill myself, I'll make your life a living hell." Red went 'ungh' but lifted his head enough to show he was still conscious. Purple sent a communication to all Irken personnel in a 500-meter radius: "Fall back now. The ship is about to explode and hopefully it'll take the enemy up with it." He jostled Red again. "This is going to be close and most likely painful."

"Oh good." Red muttered weakly back. "I'm not in enough pain as it is."

Glad he was at least in a state of mind to be sarcastic, Purple opened up his communicator again. "Is everyone safely away?"

"Yessir! But the Monmen are converging on the ship again!"

"Just hold your positions." He then muttered under his breath, "And hope we make it." Bracing the both of them by the doorway, Purple's boosters slid from the pak and did their low rumbling buildup. When the first of the Walkers came into view, the two sped out, knocking it over with surprising velocity as the heat and blue flame of the boosters ignited the fuel.

The heat from the explosion was searing across his back and Purple could hear the snapping and exploding of metal parts. Whines and howls rose up around him, the crackling of burning tears and the sharp scent of boiling skin and fuel was like a knife in his brain. He raced against the explosion, whipping around trees with barely a thought.

He never found out if they were safe though, because something stabbed him in the back.

* * *

When he woke up he was cold. Which was odd because that damned planet was nothing but a ball of green humidity. Being cold wasn't something that happened. Being not sticky was the same way but he certainly didn't feel like he just took a bath in glue.

There was someone standing over him and he didn't know who it was. Or maybe he just couldn't see. It was just a green blur and the background was spinning wildly.

Ooo, he was gonna be sick…

When he woke up again he was still cold and not sticky but less prone to being subjugated before the unruly landscape. Room. Whatever.

He didn't know how long he was awake but he became vaguely aware of someone else (having entered? been there?) in the room. Though his eyesight and presence of mind cleared, he still couldn't recognize who it was.

About the most intelligent conversation he could come up with is, "Where am I?"

* * *

"My Tallest."

"How are they?"

"Invader Red has regained consciousness and is doing well. His burns have been treated, and had only suffered a minor concussion and he should be back in working condition within two weeks but I wouldn't put him back in the field for another eight months. We were able to reset his arm with pins and wires, but it will take a bit for the grafts to fully integrate with the bone structure."

"And Purple?"

"…He's… We're not entirely certain."

"What do you mean?"

"Most of his wounds are completely superficial, the burns are already beginning to heal. But we've had to pull shrapnel out of his pak for five minutes- there was a lot of damage done to it. We don't have the facilities to fix it here and some of the more vital parts are severely damaged. We're not entirely certain if he can survive long enough to reach the flagship."

"You can't do ANYTHING about it?"

"There is a…slim chance…"

* * *

Red was edgy. He was aware and focusing and in pain and man did he ever want to get out of this boring place. He was considering jumping up and attacking the next person that came in and sneak out that way if his body would cooperate.

The door opened.

"My-My Tallest!" He gasped. Then doubled over when his bones showed their displeasure at the sudden jolt.

Tallest Flitch put a hand to his head. "Just… calm down, Invader Red." He said somewhat tightly. Then, a little softer, he asked, "Have you been told about what happened?"

"Er, yes, My Tallest." Red wheezed out. "I was debriefed."

"Then you're aware of what happened to Invader Purple?"

If it was possible for an Irken to pale, Red would have. "What happened to Purple?"

* * *

The first thing said was 'Ow' followed by a cough. Which lead to more 'ow'ing and more coughing until someone else said, "Would you knock it off already?"

"Guh… someone kill me…"

"Oh no you don't. Not until you've been properly grateful, freakin' moocher."

It took a moment to place the voice. "…R-Red?"

"Yeah, what?"

Purple tried to bring himself to his elbows but quickly halted the endeavor when the pain became too much. He was on his stomach in some room that was nearly silent. They were off world in some ship. Looking around he saw Red stretched out on a bed nearby, arms under his chin like he didn't have a care in the world. Except for an irritated crease in his forehead.

"What happened?"

"Just go back to sleep, will you? You're draining me." He snapped back. Purple felt his hackles rise.

"Hey, I saved your life you ungrateful bastard! You owe me some sort of courtesy here!"

"Yeah. I DID. Before I had to save YOUR life."

Purple blinked. "What?"

Red turned and glared at him. "Look around, bright one. We're in a medical ship."

To most species, discerning an Irken's regular room from their medbay was difficult because all their structures had the same disinfectant, cold and filled with softly beeping panels and harsh lights. The only real difference was that the medbays tended to be less cluttered then most other rooms and had large monitors for the staff to watch the patients.

What Purple found disturbing, however, was not only the fact that he had to share a room with Red (their beds in close proximity as well) but also the fact wires were hooking them together. More specifically, wires were hooking their PAKS together.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?" Purple jerked away. "Why the hell am I connected to you? Argh, getoutgetougetouge-"

"Will you shut up!" Red lunged over and clamped a hand over Purple's mouth. "I freakin' swear, Purple, if you make the doctors come in here and sedate you, I'm just going to have them pull the plug and you can just wither and die on your own, got it? I don't like this any better than you but it's gotta be done so just DEAL."

Certain that Purple was done freaking out, Red retracted his hand and continued to glare. Purple, a little cowed and somewhat embarrassed about his outburst (not too much, though, connecting to another's pak without concession was probably some species' equivalent of being violated), laid back down.

"Um," he said at length, "why AM I connected to you?"

Red sighed. "Because the explosion nearly broke your pak. It couldn't run itself properly so I volunteered to hook up to it and now my pak is working for the both of us until we can get to a proper engineering facility. So if you start flailing around again you're either going to black us both out the paks will reject each other again."

Purple grumbled and buried his head in his pillow. Doing a pak to pak support was risky, mainly for the fact that paks tended to reject or destroy any object that wasn't supposed to be inside it. This included support cables from other paks. It also ran the risk that the supporting party wouldn't be strong enough to handle supporting two beings or that one would overpower the other and, literally, drain the life out of them.

For hours it seemed, the two lay quietly, trying not to disturb the delicate union (despite how grotesque it sounded having a piece of Red inside of Purple, g'uh) when Purple couldn't help but ask:

"Why are you saving me?"

And Red took a while, running answers around in his head before he finally decided on, "I don't like being indebted to you." And even that sounded weak to both of them. "Why did you save me?"

And Purple took even longer to answer and his sounded even weaker. "I wanted you to owe me."

And even though neither of them said it, maybe it was a thought that passed through their conjoined paks that said, somehow, things wouldn't be as fun without each other around.

* * *

He watched them, satisfied that both Invaders would survive as they came upon their space station, a team of engineers already gathered and waiting to dock. Once he made certain that the procedure to reconstruct Purple's pak was well underway and successful, he marched up to the bridge and had his communications officer punch up a line to a planet several light years away.

A wide, gray face and yellow goggled eyes peered into the screen in surprise. The creature saluted smartly. "My Tallest!" It said loudly. "I am honored that you-"

"Can it." Tallest Flitch snapped back. With narrowed eyes he told the cowering creature with dark intensity: "Invader Vale, prepare your attack. We'll be at Vort in eight days."


End file.
